


cognac in the glass (gun in the holster)

by yakitorihanyu



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, M/M, Minor Character Death, Violence, Weapons, downright shitty writing, hint the president of isu dies for his sins in the recent congress, implied future yuzusho, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yakitorihanyu/pseuds/yakitorihanyu
Summary: Shoma is a spy with a gun, Yuzuru is a spy without a sense of self preservation, and everything goes to hell in a matter of seconds. He really doesn't want to know when his life became one big Bond movie, but Shoma supposes it started with a glass of cognac in the middle of Russia's biggest casino.(Or, a night at the casino turns into a car chase across St. Petersburg.)





	cognac in the glass (gun in the holster)

Shoma realizes his life is one big bond movie when the start of Monday at 12 AM finds him in the heart of Russia’s biggest casino. The thing is, it shouldn’t be a surprise or much of a revelation, really, because he’s an honest to god spy. But the sheer absurdity of drinking a fine glass of cognac while playing blackjack next to the CFO of a Norwegian oil company all for the mission is honestly too amusing. And because it’s a bond film, he’s somehow blending in with the predominantly caucasian sea of people despite being a short Japanese man. 

Nobody gives him a second look when he moves to another table closer to his mission target or when he orders yet another glass of cognac, either out of sheer ignorance or overwhelming stupidity. Shoma doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so he settles on being thankful instead that people have higher priorities over the short asian man who drinks liquor with a 40% alcohol content like it’s water.

Even with the alcohol buzzing in his system though, Shoma manages to keep an eye on his target at all times. He’s standing maybe ten feet away from him in a similar suit, though more wrinkled because Jan Dijkema is a paranoid and elusive target who hasn’t been seen in public for nearly six months. Shoma takes stock of the way his hands are shaking and his eyes are darting constantly to the exit as a sign he knows he’s being watched, and perhaps not only by Shoma. 

Carefully turning back to his cards, Shoma takes another sip of his cognac, rolling his eyes on the inside when he hears the familiar static crackle of his in-ear piece coming to life. 

“Lay off the alcohol, Sho.” Keiji— his handler— chides over the comm, but the laugh at the end quickly turns into a curse. Shoma sets his drink down and continues to play blackjack, never giving away that in an unmarked van outside of the building, something’s gone wrong enough for Keiji to start swearing. 

“Check your target at nine o'clock using the metallic sculpture on your three.” His handler says in all seriousness and Shoma turns towards the conveniently seated Norwegian CFO, responds to his criticisms over American beer all while looking in the reflective surface of the sculpture at his target. He doesn’t need a high tech camera to recognize the figure and the face currently making his way to the target before diverting to a blackjack table nearby. 

 

Everyone knows who Yuzuru Hanyu is, including (unfortunately) Shoma. If his hand drift towards the side of his hip where a glock is strapped, nobody— not even the Norwegian CFO— notices. 

To be perfectly fair though, Shoma should’ve expected him. A man like Jan Dijkema with twice as many enemies as he has power doesn’t suddenly turn up on radars without throwing a party. But he still doesn’t know what TCC’s— the elite Canadian agency he knows Yuzuru works for— motives are, and if they conflict with JSF’s orders to extract Jan Dijkema alive. All Shoma knows is that if Yuzuru Hanyu is here, it confirms his belief— they aren’t the only ones trying to get to the target before anyone else does. 

Shoma takes another sip of his cognac, ignores Keiji’s repeated admonishments to stop drinking (he has a high tolerance anyways and Keiji probably doesn’t know it because he blacks out at two beers when they’re drinking together ). Suddenly, a figure sits next to Shoma, and he doesn’t even need to turn his head to know it’s Yuzuru. The scent of honey gives him away. 

“Fancy meeting you here, Agent Shoma.” Yuzuru says in Japanese with the title included, because if you’re going to recklessly engage with enemy agents, you might as well call them out. Shoma finally suppresses the urge to fire his weapon enough to turn his head and give a polite, restrained smile. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to respond because that’s when all hell breaks loose. 

The lights go out, and Shoma’s earpiece dies in the crackle of static too. It’s an electromagnetic pulse, he guesses— that’s the only good enough explanation. 

Shoma’s agent instincts kick in and he immediately tries to run to his target as he waits for the telltale sign of the backup generator. Unfortunately, a gunshot rings out first, much to the displeasure of the rest of the crowd as they erupt in screams. Shoma gets his gun out but it’s too late. He watches Jan Dijkema’s body fall to the ground in a loud thud. Behind him, a pretty girl screams as she’s drenched in his blood.

It’s a headshot. 

By the time the lights come back on, the masses are starting to run out of the exits as fast as they can, and Shoma’s fighting upstream towards Jan Dijkema when a second shot rings out and hits the table next to him. That was intentional, Shoma knows that much. He pushes himself towards the origin of the gunshots which he realizes are originating from the area around Jan Dijkema’s body.

There’s a natural break in the crowd as they divert to stay away from the dead body as much as possible, and Shoma breaks through the crowd. He feels a punch aimed towards him before he even sees it, and manages to deflect it at the last second by dodging to the left. Shoma’s too slow to see the second one, but at least it gives him the opportunity to look up at his assailant. Arutyunyan, Shoma knows, belongs to the government of the United States of America, and right now their biggest star— Nathan Chen, was currently aiming for his gut, again. 

Shoma ducks out of the way and crashes into another body instead. He doesn’t even get a moment to breath before the new party is up and launching themselves towards him. Unfortunately, Yuzuru— who’s presence Shoma only registers now on the ground, trips him before he gets to Shoma. 

Instead of getting up a second time though, the new party who Shoma recognizes as Mikhail Kolyada turns and runs in the same direction as Nathan, seemingly making their escape by slipping into the crowd. Shoma sees Yuzuru getting up in the corner of his eye, but he stops there. 

Jan Dijkema is dead, and with that, the mission is considered a failure. 

Shoma tries to root through the dead man’s suit, wonders if there’s a USB or anything that’ll help JSF and salvage Shoma’s mission, when he’s interrupted by Yuzuru. 

“Help me.”

Yuzuru doesn’t chase after the two enemy agents alone, which is surprising for someone usually reckless to the point of endangerment. Instead, he’s asking for Shoma for help, so maybe he is proving his recklessness after all. Shoma is confused.

“Are you completely forgetting that we’re not allies, or do I have to shoot you to remind you?” Shoma replies, and he doesn’t even wait for another response. It’s the truth. The TCC and JSF weren’t enemies in the strictest sense, but anybody not an ally was considered an enemy. You don’t trust people in the espionage business, is the thing. He’s making his way to the exit instead where he knows he can find a signal and call JSF to tell them it’s all gone wrong. 

Instead, Yuzuru catches up to him, and there’s something desperate in his eyes. Shoma knows Yuzuru doesn’t like to lose either— but they’re both here, and they both lost. What’s different between them though, is that Shoma knows how to lose. But Yuzuru, as much of a prodigy and as talented as he is, has never known what losing meant. 

“We’re not allies but hey, an enemy of an enemy is a friend, right? You have to help me, I can’t do it without you.” 

The sheer vulnerability of the statement is enough to shock Shoma into turning around. He quickly turns to look at Yuzuru, searching his face for the slightest giveaway of a hidden agenda. Shoma doesn’t trust Yuzuru, but he doesn’t hate him completely either. 

The thing is, Shoma might be infected with Yuzuru’s recklessness enough to consider it. He doesn’t like losing, again. Jan Dijkema dying before he has the opportunity to extract him is a sign of that. But coming home with a dead body is one thing, coming home with an enemy agent is another. 

The next thing he knows, he’s being pulled by Yuzuru into the crowd, his soft and warm grip an antithesis to his harsh looks and wildcard personality. They find and track Nathan and Mikhail quickly, because what the Arutyunyan agents have in raw strength and intellect, they lack in subtlety or the finer handles of espionage. The stream deposits him in front of the casino where he spies several news reporters climbing out of their vans and among them, the two agents quickly hopping into a black Escalade.

“Be cool.” Yuzuru whispers to Shoma as they run to the other side where people are frantically getting into their cars. Shoma wants to snort. If anyone should be telling anyone to remain low-key and anonymous, it should be Shoma to Yuzuru. After all, he’s seen Yuzuru through Barcelona and Helsinki, knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Yuzuru then proceeds to completely disregard his own advice seconds later as he breaks into an ocean blue Maserati. 

Shoma hisses out an unappreciative “Seriously?” despite climbing into the passenger seat. They can’t afford to waste time, not when the black Escalade is already swerving into the road. Sirens ring out in the distance.

Seconds later when the black car turns a hard left and races down the empty street, Shoma is a bit more thankful for the choice of car after catching up in nearly no time. It’s bordering on 1AM now, time is somehow seemingly irrelevant. 

He’s also glad he remembered to put on his seatbelt, because Yuzuru’s driving license might as well be a license to kill. That’s when the first bullets come flying at them, and Yuzuru steps on the breaks so hard, Shoma can feel his chest move faster than the rest of his body. Shoma doesn’t stop though, just yells at Yuzuru to step on the gas as he slips through the shoulder part of the seatbelt, taking out his gun and rolling the window down. 

It feels natural, even though this is Shoma’s first time trying to gun down a car while travelling at 75 miles per hour through the urban streets of St. Petersburg. The road is empty, which means Yuzuru is pretending he’s on the German Autobahn and having too much fun for someone who’s chasing a pair of highly lethal agents. 

Shoma waits for the right moment, keeps his fingers on the trigger at all times. He fires when the Escalade slows down for just a moment, feels the recoil spread from the gun to his hands in a satisfying manner. He hits the back tire dead on, and has to fight to keep himself from losing his balance as Yuzuru steps on the brakes, hard.

The car in front of them tumbles twice, and Shoma hopes that’s enough for both, or at least one of them to break their neck. Or legs. As long as they were paralyzed enough for Shoma in his 5’3 glory to subdue. 

“A little warning would be nice!” Yuzuru bites out as he dives under the dashboard and somehow manages to procure a weapon. Shoma gets back into the car without wasting a single second and reloads quickly, pulling another round out of his holster. 

“Gotta love Russian mobsters and their penchant for keeping guns in cars.” Yuzuru remarks offhandedly. It’s a semi-automatic rifle, and if someone wasn’t trying to fire an OT-38 Stetchkin at him right now, Shoma would’ve looked upon it in jealousy. But his wish gets answered anyways. 

“Trade with me, you like rifles, right? Good, I’m more of a handgun guy myself.” Yuzuru says, not waiting for Shoma to respond as he gets out of the car, and Shoma files a mental note to not think about that later, about how Yuzuru knows he prefers rifles more. He honestly doesn’t have the time right now— the frequency of shots is growing, and it doesn’t take an idiot to know it’s an active fire situation. 

The way the car came to a stop perpendicularly after Yuzuru’s sudden brakes means Shoma has to dive across the console in order to take cover behind the car. The car is somehow withstanding the bullets Shoma definitely knows are coming based on the metallic clang, and he remembers Yuzuru’s comments about Russian mobsters. Figures. 

Yuzuru’s crouched by the hood of the car while he motions for Shoma to take the back. The two agents— they’re also behind the car, but Shoma can clearly see from here whenever they step out to take a shot that their guns are modified to wrap around a corner. That’s new weaponry for him to report to JSF later. 

Shoma fires a couple of quick rounds, but the exchange doesn’t last very long because of course they’re in the middle of a civilian centre. Sirens ring out in the distance, and the gunshots are replaced by the sounds of American curses and footsteps. Yuzuru follows before Shoma can say anything. 

He speeds off in front of the shorter agent, and Shoma is almost tempted to race him— but he remembers the specific JSF protocol to never leave behind a trace. So, he shoots at the gas tank of the Maserati. 

Yuzuru swears again in front of him, and the gunshots are back. No doubt they’re firing at him. Shoma lets a couple of rounds go at them, but he’s not aiming to kill. Aiming to injure though, that’s what he’s doing, so when a bullet flies into the hip of an agent Shoma recognizes as Nathan due to the curly hair, he thinks the Arutyunyan agent might just be good enough compensation for losing Jan Dijkema.

He’s wrong of course, when Nathan just gets up and keeps running like blood isn’t running down his thigh. Frankly, Shoma is appalled, but it’s too late for them. The thirty second gap in between them running and Shoma blowing up the precious Maserati was all the Arutyunyan agents needed. 

They disappear a moment later, picked up by an inconspicuous mail van while Mikhail has the audacity to flash a smirk at Shoma and Yuzuru. At the same time, the sounds of police cars are getting louder by every second, no doubt alerted by the flaming Maserati. 

Yuzuru tugs on his hand, and Shoma’s surprised to find it there. It fits, the sharp angles of his knuckles perfectly contrasting the soft contours of Shoma’s own hands. But he doesn’t want to think about it, quite literally can’t think about it as they’re running across the streets now. 

He’s laughing. Shoma doesn’t know how to feel. 

“Did you really blow up the Maserati? Kind of sad to see it go but that steering wheel probably had all of my prints on it, I mean, who makes a gold plated steering wheel? Anyways, I have evac in a couple of blocks” 

They’re ducking and weaving in between clothing alleys, making sure not to drop anything. Shoma nearly drops his gun twice because Yuzuru is still holding on tightly to his hand and he swears it’s stopping his circulation, even in his other hand. He’s still the same Yuzuru that Shoma clashed with before in Barcelona and Helsinki— reckless and not afraid to mingle with enemy agents, who talks like there’s no tomorrow even in the most inappropriate of situations.

It’s endearing, actually, the way he looks back every now and then as if to make sure Shoma is still there, still in rhyme with him.

They get to Rosenberg Street before Shoma is struck with the sudden realization that if he climbs up the stairs and into the chopper, he’ll be in enemy territory, that Yuzuru is enemy territory. Strangely enough, it’s the the name of the street that triggers him.

One of the most renowned Soviet spies, the Rosenbergs were deep in American territory when they died. They were reckless, Shoma remembers Mihoko teaching him. They let themselves fall prey to their egos and in doing so, they died.

Shoma falters at the base of the stairs, Yuzuru is three steps ahead of him. 

“Come on, Shoma. Evac is five minutes. It’s five till 1:30.” and Yuzuru is there, extending a hand to him, kind eyes and all that raise Shoma’s defenses. They’re not allies, but they’re not enemies in the strictest sense either. 

Then Shoma thinks of Mao, and it’s all too much. 

He turns and runs, looks above and sees a chopper land at the building he came from. Yuzuru isn’t following him, which is good, which is what he wanted. It’s stupid. Shoma is treating himself like he’s Juliet running away from Romeo when in reality he’s just another spy extracting himself from a potentially hostile environment. He breaks into a sprint. 

Shoma’s running, faster than he did when he was chasing Nathan and Mikhail. He cuts corners and runs down alleyways without a second though, swerving into side streets and squeezing in between cobblestone buildings. He ends up in a small 24/7 coffee shop, walks in as if he isn’t wearing a suit and tie that’s stained with tonight’s events. The owner doesn’t give him a second look though. He orders a coffee, mixes copious amounts of milk and sugar and settles into himself in the corner of the cafe. The cafe cat, Shoma presumes, meows at him nearby.

He reaches down to his shoe and pulls out his communication device in the shape of a phone. Shoma was supposed to use it all the way back when the mission only had two outcomes: either Jan Dijkema agreeing to go with him, or Jan Dijkema’s body. Nevermind chasing a pair of enemy agents across St. Petersburg. He calls Mihoko, lets it go through for a couple of seconds. In the tiny speaker, he can hear her relieved voice asking about his whereabouts. 

Instead, Shoma ends it, and knows that Mihoko already has location called and the EVAC en route. 

He takes another sip of his coffee. The sudden sereness contrasting itself to the chaos of just a few minutes ago. He takes another sip. The roar of helicopters echoes above him, fainter and fainter until he can’t hear it anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of a larger, on-going universe- so don't worry if the ending doesn't make sense :) Everything shall be explained in due time (with more fics!!!). Shoutout to E, a very special person who motivated me to finish this and held my hand throughout the whole process.


End file.
